Alone With My Gardener
by Liv C. Wood
Summary: Frodo learns that life isn't always as enjoyable as smoking pipeweed... especially when your friend is well, acting strangely, and one of your companions wants to bite your ear off.


Alone With My Gardener: A Journal Of Frodo Baggins  
  
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Disclaimer: In no way am I J.R.R. Tolkien, the writer of the original Lord Of The Rings books. I am not anyone related to him, or pretty much any kind of being even so much as slightly associated with Lord Of The Rings, except for being a lowly fan. And you should not be thinking of me as such. My story is supposed to be humorous, no I don't have a sick mind, and no I don't hate hobbits. Sam is one of my favorite LOTR characters, thought he should share my love for Elijah. ^_~  
  
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December 17 -  
  
Hello again, friend. I know that for the past year or so, I've been just sort of penning random thoughts and what not, just talking about my issue or situation or whatever you like to call it. Yes, that little problem I have draped around my neck all the time, the One Ring Of Power. Of course you already know all about how the fellowship split apart, and Samwise Gamgee and I have ventured out on our own to destroy the Ring, and the ever-present Smeagol whom I've saved from death by sword from Sam countless times.  
  
But lately, journal, strange things have been happening. You see, ever since the fellowship was split apart and forced to go our separate ways, and earlier, at the loss of Gandalf, Sam began acting. strangely. It wasn't all too noticeable in the beginning, what with oh, 7 other guys around all the time, but now he's suddenly. protective of me? Is protective what it's called? He's now following me very closely, always putting his arm around me, and will take any excuse to go and hug me tightly, claiming that he 'hears' something. At night, he insists on sleeping right next to me, a little too close for comfort, and has more often than once tried to hug me around the waist while I was sleeping, and I'm telling you, he's definitely not doing this to try to save blankets. Trust me.  
  
Anyhow I'm sure it's just a phase. Sam has made fish soup again tonight, and I've caught him trying to arrange the vegetables in my bowl to say something for the past week. I've tried to bring up his strange behavior more than once, but he denies everything. Oh well. I'll talk more later maybe.  
  
***  
  
January 2 -  
  
It's been such a long time since I last wrote in here, and I wish I could tell you, friend, that Sam's obsession with being touchy-feely has mounted to an even higher level. Just this morning, Smeagol got into another one of his multiple-personality *moods*, and you don't want to know what I mean by *moods*. He jumped on me from behind for the second time this week, and it was horrible, biting my ear and wouldn't get off. He nearly had the chain off my neck, and then Sam came running, "I'll save you Mr. Frodo!", took our only good pot, struck Smeagol across the head, and knocked the thing out cold. Now, you may think that that is a good thing, but now, there's this Smeagol-head-shaped dent in the middle of our pot, and Sam keeps offering to kiss the part of my ear that Smeagol had bitten. Despite the fact the thing hadn't even drawn blood when he tried to bite my ear, and there's hardly a scar from his little attack. The world just keeps getting more and more confusing.  
  
I really wished I had brought my collection of "Hobbit's Heart" from the Shire. Really wished I had. I mean after all, I just *know* there has to have been something in the "Advice for Short Ones" columns in *one* of those issues. A guy friend that gets too close? The advice columnist definitely would have had something to say about that one. I wonder if I could keep up with my subscriptions, maybe pay a little extra money and have them Fed-Ex all my orders to Mordor or something. After all, I *am* trying to save the world here, with the hindrance of a possibly gay friend and a hobbit-thing that keeps trying to bite my ear off, shouldn't that magazine put that in mind?  
  
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January 24 -  
  
I was kind of bored the past few weeks so I penned out a draft of my letter to the advice lady. There hasn't been much ado lately in the adventures of my life, except that Sam isn't talking to Smeagol, Smeagol had another one of his fits a few days ago, this time, he tried to pummel into my stomach with his head, and once again. Sam offered to.. to. kiss it, and he already rubbed it with some 'cream' six times already. Ew. Alright, well here's my letter. I'll send it off as soon as I get to the next city, maybe ask one of them if they can hold a copy of "Hobbit's Heart" in their post office, and I can pick it up on the way back from Mordor. Dear Rosie, I'm a young hobbit with a question for you about love. What do you do if one of your friends gets a little too close to just be friends, and you've tried to talk to him about it, but he won't listen? I spend a lot of time with this friend, and I kind of have to (long story), but what should I do? I really like your column, and I have a big collection of every subscription. Awaiting your answer, Lost In The Middle Of Nowhere.  
  
*** February 12 -  
  
We're still nowhere near Mordor. I'm starting to think Smeagol is leading us in circles. I keep finding 'Frodo + Sam' in hearts on trees everywhere we go, and Sam has pretended he can't see them. This means either Smeagol is leading us in circles, or Sam is carving that on a tree every time we camp in a new spot. Great. And Sam used to tell me that he thought trees should be treated like friends!  
  
Sam is starting to suspect me of writing about him now. He keeps trying to read over my shoulder whenever I write. I've asked him politely to stop, reminding him what our school teacher had told us, about respecting other hobbits' ideas and whatnot. Then Sam gets this weird look of reminisce in his face, and tries to hold my hand while talking about how long we've known each other, and how great our friendship is. It's really quite frightening.  
  
I've come to a decision. I really don't want to hurt Sam's feelings, as he has now taken it into his head to try to read what I've been writing in the diary. I'm going to give it to Smeagol, and tell him to do what he wants with, which, knowing Smeagol, is probably eat it, bury it, or rip it up into trillions of strips and drop them all off the nearest cliff. Well he might not drop them off a cliff, seeing as how if Sam saw Smeagol next to a cliff, the temptation would be too great for the poor hobbit and he would run over and try to push Smeagol off. And that would be a bit of a loss for us trying to get to Mordor. So, friend, good-bye, and till better days. ~Frodo  
  
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Well that was it. Hope you found it.. interesting. Review it for me, I'd really like to know what the world thinks about my very first fan-fiction. And until next time (maybe by then I'll know how to work the chapters): -- LCW 


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